You've
seen me lament the deterioration of the short-term memory - indeed its possible
extinction.
Long-term
stuff though has held pretty well. That doesn't mean it is 100% accurate. The
interesting thing about nostalgia is that it is a condition of colouration. That's all good and well for story-telling,
but for the sake of straightening records and maintaining integrity, one must
be brutally honest about one's own part in things.
Also, no
matter how accurately told, almost certainly where other folk are involved,
they will have their own view on the matter.
This can occasionally lead to disruption. On rare occasions, war. It all comes back to how evolved each ego was
in the moment concerned. Too immature,
too self-centred to see anything beyond the "why me?". Or, more mature and capable at least of
seeing others are affected. Then again,
perhaps sufficiently wise to understand that whatever is going on is part of
the map of life and no matter how it goes down, one will land in the tomorrow
with a memory worth retelling.
I put my
hand up here and declare I am an observer.
Always tended to stand on the outside looking in, including my own life,
which has caused some consternation to others when decisions have been made
that could, on the surface, appear arbitrary.
I wrote
yesterday about direction in life altering as a result of decisions others made
in regards to my application to the Royal Air Force. When a decision one has made is overturned by
these sorts of road blocks one has to be ready to rethink strategy. Those of you who have been here a few weeks
will by now have understood that YAM is inclined towards the thinking
department.
So it was
that, regardless of the rejection, I was determined that I would leave
school. I was 16 years old. There was talk (not by me) of going on to
A-levels and university. Mum enrolled me
in a secretarial college privately so I could get a taste for more senior
study. I saw the 6 months through, but
was pretty sure I didn't want to go on to uni.
I had a notion that I needed to travel. Part of the reason for this has
to do with my inner 'guru'. (see
Menogmatic). No way was I going to be
allowed to go off on my own at that stage though. This led to some smouldering
time in the MacLean household.
Then
another event arrived which changed the lives of all the Macs. Dad was offered his first overseas
assignment. It was a promotion, managerial, therefore included the wife.
Children
on the other hand… Well, that was a bit
of a clincher. My decision was now
supported and my secretarial certificate, (Pittman shorthand and manual typing
skills to 40wpm - electric typewriters were just coming on the market and I got
up to a whopping 55wpm on one of those beauties!), stood me in good stead as
dad argued the toss with his boss that I could be utilised in the field office! WOOHOO.
Mac3 was barely 7 years of age and mum could not bear to see him enter
boarding school. Mac1 and Mac2, however,
fell slap bang in the middle and a school placement in Edinburgh was found for
them.
I know
they were each affected differently by
the experience. For me it was very
strange to be without my sisters. On the
other hand, I was now expected to take part in adult activities and share some
responsibility with mum for Mac3's home schooling.
So, by
sticking to my very own decision regarding schooling, I became incorporated in
family decision making at an entirely different level. I learned two things and made another
decision that I have stuck to. I didn't
ever want to get married. I didn't ever
want to have kids. Depending on your
point of view this can look selfish. Or
very, very wise. Just think of all the
children in world who have missed out on being terrorised by the YAMonster.
I love
kids. For about an hour. Less if they're uncooperative.
My point
here, though, is that decisions regarding life direction are interesting and
challenging and whilst others might be involved on the periphery, in the end it
is all down to ourselves. I look back at
that now with a degree of astonishment.
I had no fear. I knew it was the
beginning of the rest of my life and there would be experiences from which I
could only grow. I embraced it with
gusto.
Dear
mother, devoted wife, struggled. There
were times she confessed the decision of moving with dad instead of staying and
keeping the girls together was the hardest ever. I think it haunted her for a very long time.
But I
cannot speak in depth for her or any of the other family members. I will only relate what directly affected
me. Nigeria was a wild and exciting
place and over time, I'll share some of that with you.
Please tells me you aint likes my mum and over thinks EVERY THING...I has nevers seen anybuddy dat could make things so complicated by thinkin' too much...hehehe. It can be a good thing or a curse.
ReplyDeleteMy mum's furiend went to Edinburgh fur school in forensic pathology.
Anyways, I not thinks you is selfish at alls fur not wantin' kids or gettin' married. I think it would be way cool to be ables to travel da world and do what you want any time you want. Which brings up anudder point bouts your mom...I feels bad fur her withs such a drastic lifestyle change and da kiddos bein spread out everywheres. It seems like they all managed though.
Puddles
Hari Om
ReplyDeleteOh Puddles you said some very sweet things. I'm surprised - but pleasantly so!! &*>
YAM's more a thinker in terms of the whys and wherefores of life and always has been. Occasionally though, she does sweat 'the small stuff' and get a bit fizzled. So I sympathise with your mum. Mostly I get it sorted though.
OOOHH an Edinburgh connection! If you looked at the Menothority page you will see that we belong to Scotland, though much of the world has been trampled by various members of the Macs.
Yes; inspite of the difficulties that being spread across the globe can give, it also helped in knitting us together ---- we're all well adjusted wierdos! (OH THAT's gonna get me into trubs 8-0...)
Hugs and wags, YAM-aunty xx
I don't envy your parents having to take those decisions, Yam, and agree that our memories of events can only ever be partial - hence the frequent amendments by Goldenoldenlady to some of my more nostalgic posts. :-)
ReplyDeleteI think your were extremely fortunate to have recognised at such a young age that marriage and motherhood weren't for you, rather than stumbling into them as so many people do and realising your unsuitability after the event.
Hari Om Perpetua-ji!
ReplyDeleteIt is not so much partial memories as that we can only rely on OUR part of the events! When my sisters or brother relate the same incident, each will do so only from THEIR part. That is why, in the end it is all just hiSTORY...:-}
It is also the part of parents to have to make decisions for all and the poor darlings live with the consequences ever after.
If they're lucky, like ours, the kids forgive and are forgiven. There's that Love with the capital ell again!!!! Yxx